Sword of Kings
Chapter 35 – The Army Takes Shape

by Bill W

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Legal Notice:
The following story contains descriptions of graphic sexual acts. 
The story is a work of fiction and has no basis in reality.
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I wish to extend my thank you to Emoe57 for his editorial assistance with this chapter.

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The meeting between Beraut and his military advisors and senior officers lasted a little over an hour. Once all the menial details on the agenda had been attended to, everyone prepared to leave the wizard’s quarters. Beraut kindly offered to share his accommodations with them, but they opted to spend the night amongst their own troops instead, so they took their leave from the enchanter.

As King Brolin made his way toward the opening, he stopped to chat with his lifelong friend. “You have done well to prepare everyone, but I’m concerned about other factors. There is considerable grumbling going on amongst the troops, which I fear may have some credence. You must admit this weather is definitely atypical for this time of year. Could the Dark Lord be at least partially responsible for it, as a way to hinder our movements against him?”

“As I have told others, your highness,” the mage responded, “the inclement weather does not appear or feel magical in nature. Nor do I sense any supernatural presence involved. I am afraid it is just an unfortunate coincidence. There is one thing I am fairly certain of, however, and that is there will be a chilling frost settling in this evening, as a result of the rain and massive cloud cover.”

“Then I guess I shall see that my bedroll is placed nearer the campfire,” the King commented, “as these old bones can’t endure the cold like they used to.”

“Don’t get too close to the fire,” the wizard countered. “We don’t want it turning into a crematory pyre.”

“Indeed not,” the dwarf shot back. “I don’t intend to provide roast dwarf for the local scavengers to enjoy, no matter how tasty it would be for them.” The pair took a few seconds to enjoy this playful banter, before getting serious again. “It is late and time for me to retire,” Brolin commented, changing the tone. “May your gods be gracious enough to grant you a restful slumber,” he added.

“And yours also, my old friend,” Beraut responded. “I fear we will have a very arduous row to hoe tomorrow.” The King nodded and returned to join his countrymen, while the wizard spread his bedding out upon the ground. Slowly, the camp began to fall silent.

As often happens, as the time for the battle to begin grows closer, everyone who will be involved in the conflict starts to become unsettled and reflective. Tonight was no exception to that rule. No one, from the senior advisors to lowliest soldier, was able to sleep very soundly. Commander Massil, as well as many of the others in the upper echelon, continued to mentally go over his assignment. Throughout the evening, he mulled over his orders, in an attempt to visualize every aspect of what he was going to be called upon to do. After he felt he had satisfactorily covered every detail of the battle plan, he attempted to picture as many contingency scenarios of the engagement as he could. That way, if such circumstances did arise, he would be able to react quickly, instinctively and decisively, without having to take the time to think things through in the midst of the fighting. This would allow him to save many crucial minutes, which he hoped would translate into even more spared lives.

Once he had finished that task, Massil reflected upon his little altercation with the dwarf captain, Baith. He was concerned their disagreement might be a hint of other similar problems in the future. The commander feared that disagreement might indicate something deeper and more sinister below the surface, such as latent racial tensions. Could this possibly mean the members of the other races would be unwilling to follow someone outside of their own group? Did this signal the possibility of other such incidents? Could there be an underlying suspicion in the way the various groups view and reacted to situations involving others who weren’t members of their particular race, which might prevent orders from being interpreted as they were intended? Silently, he hoped this was not the case and prayed the problem with Baith was just an isolated misunderstanding, yet his doubts still lingered. When the Commander did finally fall asleep and was able to dream, his thoughts drifted to the actual fighting. His mind pictured the carnage he knew would result and that, combined with the earlier run-in, made him question his leadership abilities. Unconsciously, he continued to ponder these uncertainties, as his weariness overtook him.

While the ranking officers were going through their mental preparations, Balaster Rombaire, like the other members of the senior staff, spent his time reliving past battles he had been a part of. He hoped to find some small detail about those previous experiences that might come in handy during this new encounter. Reflectively, he rehashed crucial moments of each important battle, in an effort to determine if he could have shortened the duration of the hostilities or reduced the bloodshed by making different decisions. Hindsight not only had its advantages, but it could also serve as a technique to keep one at the top of his game. In this case, Rombaire’s main concern was whether he would be able to spot changes quickly enough to respond to them and if he’d be able to do what it took to win the encounter, no matter the cost. It did not come easy for him to make decisions that would result in the loss of life, but he understood that sacrifices were sometimes necessary in order to be successful. The problem was, the process of determining who was to be sent into the most dangerous situations never got any easier for him.

At the same time, the lower ranking officers were suffering through their own excruciating visions. They were not only questioning everything they were about to do, but they also took the time to examine things they had done in past combat as well. In their own way, each person in charge of a group, no matter its size, was not only concerned about his own welfare, but he also worried that he would do his best to protect those under his command, in addition to trying to find a way to defeat the enemy. It was a heavy burden, indeed, and one they couldn’t shirk.

Those in leadership positions were not the only ones to be concerned about their effectiveness. At the other end of the spectrum, the common warriors had their own considerations, but theirs were of a more personal nature. One of the dwarf troopers, who served under Captain Baith, spent his night thinking about his wife and child. He could see their faces vividly, as if they were standing right beside him. Suddenly, he thought about what he would be called upon to do in the upcoming conflict and began to wonder if he was up for the task. Would he survive the bloodshed and get to see his family again? He had only been married a few years and didn’t want it to end this quickly. He realized he was well trained, but untested in combat, so he wondered if he that might cost him later. He couldn’t help but picture himself pitted against a more experienced enemy, one who had been in several previous battles, and the outcome he envisioned was very disquieting. Over time, his concerns shifted to who would take care of his loved ones and provide for them, if something should happen to him. Instinctively, he feared for their future.

An older infantryman, from Cassander, had slightly different concerns. He was troubled that his advanced age would be a negative factor and feared he might be too old to endure the rigors of hand-to-hand combat. He also began to question whether his senses were keen enough to anticipate the moves his opponents would make or if he had the stamina to survive a long, drawn-out encounter. This caused him to try to think of ways he could conserve his strength or avoid the more demanding aspects of battle, but those nagging doubts would continue to linger until the warfare actually commenced.

For these tortured souls, the night seemed as if it would never end, but mercifully it drew to a close and the camp began to stir to life. The trembling of their bodies was now a result of the severe drop in temperature and not from the lingering effects of the uneasy rest they had just endured. Within a short time, it was apparent these warriors were content to zip through their morning meal, so they could spend the extra time preparing for the events that were yet to come. They would use those few precious moments to double-check their armor and make sure there were no chinks or vulnerable areas. After that, they would re-inspect their weapons, to make certain they were clean, sharp and everything was where it was supposed to be.

With all that was now going on, the soldiers no longer concerned themselves with the chilly temperature. In fact, if they did think about it at all, except to determine they were actually grateful for it. They knew it would prove to be a benefit to them, as they labored through the brisk march and ensuing struggle. The evening’s frost had also helped to firm up the ground, which meant the soldiers wouldn’t have to worry as much about their footing either. The unseasonable chill had actually proved fortuitous and had the added and unexpected effect of improving morale as well. When the soldiers realized the rain was no longer going to be a factor and the ground was once more a ‘solid’ object, they finally began to accept the fact that Madumda had not been responsible for the meteorological changes.

With a renewed sense of urgency, the troops readily fell into formation, eager to confront the enemy. The time passed fairly quickly, once they were underway, but it didn’t mean everything was going as anticipated. Throughout the morning, scouts continually scurried back and forth, reporting on whatever they saw happening at their opponent’s location, but many of these reports were not what Beraut or his military advisors expected. That fact was noticeable almost from the start.

“The enemy has yet to break camp,” one of the first scouts reported.

“What is that old fox waiting for?” King Dylan asked the mage in response.

“I’m not sure,” Beraut stated, honestly. “I did not anticipate he would delay this opportunity.” The enchanter turned back to the scout. “Has Madumda even been spotted with his troops yet?”

“No, he has not been seen anywhere,” the man reported. This information only increased Beraut’s concern, although he did not let the others see that the news troubled him. There was only one thing the mage could think of that would be more important to the Dark Lord than his anticipated victory in battle and he wondered if any of the others had figured this out as well. If they did, no one made any mention of it, so Beraut didn’t make an issue of it either.

Various reports continued to flow in throughout the day, as the army continued to move northward, but there was no communiqués from the Dwarfs under Commander Elgin or the army of the northern city-states. This was worrisome to the wizard, but it didn’t mean there was anything to be alarmed about. Maybe they were just being cautious and not risking a messenger getting intercepted – at least that’s what the mage hoped. However, he was deeply concerned that the latest scouting parties had still not reported seeing Madumda anywhere near the enemy encampment.

As bothered as he was by the implications of the Dark Lord’s tardiness, Beraut felt he had to concentrate upon the task at hand. If he didn’t, it could mean dire consequences for all of those depending upon his leadership. There was nothing he could do for Kieren or his protectors if something had gone wrong, so he went back to preparing for the battle and dispatched a small group of scouts to report the lay of the land where the battle would most likely be waged. He wanted to know all the details concerning the terrain, including the size of the area and if there were any topographical advantages or disadvantages he might be able to exploit. As much as he’d like to know for certain about Kieren and the others, the time for fighting was nearly at hand and that necessitated it be is primary focus. He couldn’t put anything or anyone ahead of that obligation now. There would be no turning back and there wasn’t any question as to what they’d be called upon to do next.

Eventually, however, the day began to draw to a close, so the command was passed along to halt the march. Instantly, the area was a buzz of activity, as the warriors went about setting up camp. The mage urged those erecting his tent into greater haste, as he knew his battle commanders would be arriving soon for their final briefing. During that time, the last of the scouts had returned and reported their findings about the most probable site for the battle and then they patiently answered a series of questions the enchanter posed to them concerning their report. Once he had his answers, Beraut made a few minor adjustments to their strategic plans, as he incorporated the information he had just received. He was utilizing that knowledge to his advantage, by avoiding any areas that might prove hazardous. As he sifted through all the facts concerning the battle area, the enchanter hastily made another decision, but decided to withhold that fact from nearly everyone else, even those closest to him. Beraut felt the fewer who knew about it, the better off those carrying out his orders would be. At last, he felt ready for what was to come.

His subordinates arrived shortly thereafter, filtering into his tent in small groups. Captain Baith was a little reticent about attending this session, because he was concerned about having to face Commander Massil again. The dwarf wondered how much the Veledan military leader had told the wizard or King Brolin about their previous encounter and was convinced that the misunderstanding might be brought up during the briefing. To Baith’s immense relief, the meeting started and the subject matter was entirely about tactical considerations.

The planning session and ensuing discussion lasted for nearly an hour, and when it was over, Beraut summoned Captain Baith to stay behind. As the wizard guided him to a corner of the tent, where they could carry on a conversation in private, Baith assumed his moment of reckoning had come. He was convinced he had been asked to stay behind because of what had transpired earlier, with Commander Massil, and dreaded was going to happen next.

“It is finally time for me to advise you as to why I had your troops camouflage their shields,” the wizard began, which caused a confused and questioning look to appear on the dwarf’s face. It took a few seconds for his mind to register that he wasn’t being called to answer for that earlier incident and he was immensely relieved by this turn of events. Comforted by this realization, he now focused his attention back upon the mage and listened to him describe the plan he had alluded to before they left Thorold. Back then, it had only been a hazy idea in the wizard’s mind, but now that he knew more about where the battle would take place, Beraut was able to flesh the plan out in greater detail. Carefully, the enchanter shared every nuance with the dwarf, and once he finished explaining each tidbit, he took some time to answer the Captain’s questions concerning his role. Once Beraut felt confident that Baith understood what he needed to do and how crucial his role was, he offered the dwarf one final piece of advice.

“This is an extremely critical task and it is imperative that you carry it out successfully. In order for you to accomplish this, you must keep your emotions and temper under control. Patience and timing will be the key.” The wizard paused after uttering those words, to make sure the dwarf understood the full meaning of his warning. When he felt confident this was the case, he continued. “I could have given this assignment to anyone, but I chose you. Therefore, you must realize that I am placing considerable faith in your ability and I trust you will not disappoint me.”

Captain Baith nodded his understanding and assured the wizard he would do as he had been instructed. “Sir, I understand the honor you are bestowing upon me and I assure you that I will not fail.”

Beraut made it a point to give him a firm handshake and a pat on the back before he left the tent, as a way of signaling his profound confidence in the young military leader. This did not go unnoticed by the dwarf and he appreciated the mage’s gentle manner. Upon returning to his troops, Baith informed his second in command that he would be in charge of their unit, as he had been given another assignment. He didn’t explain what it was, but immediately set about selecting approximately one hundred of his most trusted soldiers for this assignment. They slipped out of camp, using the cover of a starless, moonless night, and only a couple of the perimeter guards and a handful of others in the dwarf encampment even noticed their departure.

For everyone else, this evening’s camp was even more somber than the previous night. For example, General Daveel was spending valuable time trying to cope with the emotional letdown generated by the delay before going into battle. He had been mentally prepared for the fighting to begin earlier in the day and when that did not occur, he started to feel as if he was losing control of the situation. This led him to endure the same types of uncertainties he had coped with the night before, which translated into another less than refreshing slumber. If the battle had begun as planned, he would no longer be dealing with the unknown. The allies would have learned many important things during the day’s engagement, which he would now be using to improve their tactics for the following day. Seeing that didn’t happen, all of his doubts from the previous evening resurfaced.

While General Daveel was dealing with his depression, King Brolin was focusing his attention upon the lack of communication from the northern and eastern armies. He knew Commander Elgin, the dwarf military leader in charge of the northern army, was dependable, so the King didn’t worry much about not hearing from him. The eastern army, though, was a totally different story. No one had heard a word from that group since the Second Council of War. This raised concerns as to whether that group had been ambushed or befallen some other problems along the way, which in turn made him question if they could be counted on to make their appearance at their appointed time.

Beraut, unlike the others, focused all of his thoughts upon Kieren. The mage was deeply concerned about the young man’s safety and worried about the reasons behind Madumda absence. Had the Dark Lord planned to arrive at the last minute or did it indicate he had stayed behind to handle other matters? Was Kieren in jeopardy? Had his mission already failed? The answer to these questions weighed heavily upon the enchanter’s mind.

Once again, these concerns tempted Beraut to check up on Kieren, if only to see if he could learn anything about his current situation. The wizard debated whether he should try something of this nature for quite some time, as he desired to put his uneasiness to rest, but eventually resisted the temptation. No matter how much he wanted to do it, he understood such a move would be extremely unwise. Any attempt to make contact with his ward, especially if Madumda was in the same general area, might alert the Dark Lord to Kieren’s existence and present location, even if he didn’t know about the lad already. As tempted as he was, Beraut felt the prudent course of action would be to trust in providence and the skills of Kieren’s protectors to keep the boy safe and make certain the prophecy was fulfilled.

The wizard went to his bedding to lie down and tried, unsuccessfully, to sleep. Frustrated, he got back up and spent the night wrestling with the doubts that had shattered his previously healthy confidence about how things were progressing. While he tried to overcome those concerns, Beraut continually paced back and forth, as a way to release his excess nervous energy. After engaging in this unproductive activity for a few hours, the mage finally returned to his bedding and gave in to his exhaustion.

When he awoke later and began to prepare for the new day, the enchanter seemed a trifle more relaxed than when he went to bed. During those few hours of slumber, Beraut had somehow been able to silence many of the disquieting feelings that had plagued him previously. Physically refreshed and psychologically rejuvenated, he was able to greet the morning with a renewed assuredness. When he passed through the flap of his tent, he paused to admire the beauty of the dawn. The sun had began to peek over the horizon in the east, casting a soft amber glow over the land, which made everything look fresh and lovely. The sun was not yet capable of delivering much warmth, so the icy blanket of frost that had developed throughout the night still covered the countryside and the crystals of ice sparkled, as the early morning light reflected off of them. In reaction to the biting cold, the wizard pulled his cloak securely about him and then blew warm air from his lungs into his hands.

When a group of soldiers approached him, the wizard greeted them amicably and wasn’t surprised to note that he could actually watch his words emanate from his throat, as the tepid moisture from his breath crystallized in the air almost as soon as it left his vocal cords. He shuddered slightly in reaction to the chill and quickly made a decision to find someplace with a fire. He felt he needed to take advantage of some of the warming flames, at least until the sun had a chance to raise the temperature a few degrees.

Beraut quickly made the decision as to where he should go and walked briskly toward the mess facilities. He knew there would be several fires burning there, because they would be needed to prepare the morning meal. As long as he was in that area, the enchanter also opted to seek out a hot drink, to drive the chill from his bones, and something a little more substantial, to ease the rumblings in his stomach. Soon, he was drinking steaming liquid from a large mug and eating a bowlful of hot porridge. Eagerly, the seer wrapped his hands around his mug, letting the warmth from the liquid thaw out his fingers and ease the pain the cold brought to his exposed digits. Feeling a little better, he began to look around and spied his three elderly aides strolling toward the mess area too. Looking forward to their company, he immediately got up and went to greet them.

“Hail, my noble friends,” he addressed them, cheerfully. “Did you have any trouble dragging your old bones from your blankets this morning?”

“No trouble,” quipped Brolin, “just a lack of desire.” The dwarf chortled, amused by his own comment. “I trust you slept well?”

“Not particularly,” the wizard advised him, “but it will have to do. How soon before the troops are ready to march?”

“Less than an hour,” King Dylan offered. “The troops seem as anxious as we are to get their bodies moving and their blood pumping. If the enemy is equally inspired to move in our direction, then this battle could commence by mid-morning.”

“Splendid!” commented the mage, as he scanned the sky above him. “It looks as though it will also be a clear day, so the weather won’t be an issue. I only pray that all is well with our two remaining armies. Has there been any word from either of them?

“None, Master Beraut,” answered Rombaire, “but they might deem it more prudent to leave us in the dark. There has been sufficient time for each group to move their troops into place, even allowing for any additional time they might need to deal with unforeseen occurrences.”

“Commander Elgin is a fine leader and has always been extremely dependable, even under the most adverse conditions, so I think we can trust him to carry out his assignment,” King Brolin responded. “I had also been concerned by their lack of contact, but after thinking about it more fully, I’ve decided it is nothing to become alarmed about. I’m convinced that if there is even the slightest possibility for Elgin to complete his mission, he will do so. I am equally sure the northern generals will also prove to be as reliable.”

“I hope your assessment is correct,” Beraut interjected, while silently fretting something had gone terribly wrong for both groups. No matter what he suspected, he had to deal with the present. “I have to return to my tent to collect a few things and I’m sure you will probably have to do the same. I will meet you at the northern perimeter of the camp as soon as you are ready.”

They all nodded their assent and grabbed a quick meal, before heading back toward their own tents. It wasn’t long before they were rejoining the wizard at the head of the troop formation, ready to advance. The march started off normally, but they soon increased their cadence to a very invigorating pace. This would help to ensure their bodies would be limber before the fighting and bloodshed commenced.

It only took about fifteen minutes before they were close enough to the enemy to see any details about their ranks, because Madumda’s army was heading toward them utilizing a similar swift pace. The tension within both fighting units increased with every step, as each soldier strained to see the opponent he was about to face. Balaster Rombaire attempted to determine just how powerful the Dark Lord’s forces might be by studying them carefully. He sought to determine what types of troops they would be facing and the kind of weapons the enemy would be using, as that would give him clues as to what they could expect during the battle. Beraut thought along similar lines as the elf, although he sought more to discern how many foot soldiers, archers and horsemen the other side had. That information would allow him to make an educated guess as to the type of strategy they planned to employ.

The common soldiers had their own concerns. The old trooper from Cassander spent his time trying to discover if there were any surprises hidden within the enemy lines. He scanned their formation looking for unusual weapons or unexpected combatants, to help him decide if he would be able to hold his own in the upcoming conflict.

After much inspection and speculation, Beraut, Rombaire and the old warrior all began to feel a sense of relief, having discovered everything was pretty much as they had anticipated. There was nothing otherworldly or supernatural about their opponents and it appeared this was going to be a traditional military engagement. With a renewed sense of confidence, they strode on, until they were almost within fighting range.

At that point, Beraut raised his right arm, holding his hand with his palm forward, to indicate the army was to come to a halt. That signal was quickly relayed along the formation and the command was immediately executed. Once the troops had come to a complete stop, the mage waved his arm above his head, from right to left and then back again, to let those under his command know they were to deploy into their attack formation. While they were carrying out this maneuver, the enemy spent their time getting organized as well.

Before many more minutes had passed, both armies were ready and standing only a few hundred meters from each other. It suddenly became unnaturally quiet and the tension grew thick, as both sides waited for the command to ‘attack’.